A year in the Ironfall Valley was not measured in seasons, but in the slow, grinding erosion of the soul. The biting cold of winter gave way to the sucking mud of spring, which baked into the cracked clay of summer, only to wither and die once more under the autumn frost.
By his sixth nameday, Seiyuu had learned to measure himself against that erosion.
He stood in the center of the training yard, the morning mist clinging to his worn leather boots like damp wool. The ash-wood waster in his hands was no longer an unbearable burden. It still possessed weight, but it had become a familiar weight, an extension of his own arms rather than a foreign object fighting his grip. His palms were no longer a landscape of broken blisters, but smooth, hard callouses.
He moved through the Vanguard forms alone in the mist. Pivot. Strike. Withdraw. Guard. There was a fluidity to his movements now, a grim poetry of motion that belonged to a much older soldier. He didn't think about his footing anymore; his body simply knew where the earth was.
He brought the sword down in a heavy, sweeping arc, arresting the blade a mere inch from the baked clay, his breathing steady, white vapor pluming from his lips.
He closed his eyes and called the system.
The familiar blue text bloomed in the darkness of his mind, crisp and silent.
[Status: Seiyuu Walderose] Age: 6 Years, 2 Months Class: [Locked - Requires Age 10]
[Physical Attributes]
Strength: 3.8
Agility: 4.1
Vitality: 5.0
[Mental Attributes]
Intelligence: 18
Mana: 18/18 [Channels Dormant]
[Skills]
Swordsmanship Lvl 2: [Passive] Moderate increase to muscle memory retention. Fundamental balance and posture corrected for armed combat.
Seiyuu let the text fade. The numbers were small, but growing. He was building the foundation, day by day, bruise by bruise.
But physical mastery was only half the equation. The other half awaited him in the freezing, dust-choked confines of the Walderose library.
Later that afternoon, while the rest of the keep huddled around the few active hearths, Seiyuu sat cross-legged on the threadbare rug. A book titled 'The Resonance of the Star-Fall' was spread across his lap.
He had spent the last several months dissecting its complex runes. The author, a long-dead Arch-Duke, posited a theory that Aether was not just a fuel to be burned, but a frequency to be heard. 'The dormant channels of the unawakened vessel are sealed against the fire,' the text read, 'but the flesh itself may still feel the heat. To sense the Aether is to listen to the silence beneath the wind.'
Seiyuu had been practicing this concept for weeks. It was an exercise in extreme sensory deprivation.
He closed the book. He sat perfectly still in the dim, freezing room. He focused on the rhythm of his own breathing, then forced himself to look past it. He ignored the smell of dry rot. He ignored the biting cold seeping through his linen tunic. He reached out with his mind, trying to feel the space between the physical objects in the room.
For a long time, there was nothing. Only the cold, dead air of a ruined castle.
But then, a shift.
It was infinitely subtle. A faint, static prickling at the base of his skull, like the heavy, metallic pressure in the air just before a violent thunderstorm breaks. It wasn't magic—his channels were still firmly locked—but it was the shadow of magic. It was the ambient radiation of Aethelgard.
A sharp, clear tone rang through his consciousness, like a silver coin striking glass.
[Notice: Theoretical comprehension and sustained sensory focus aligned.] [Skill Unlocked: Aetheric Perception Lvl 1]
[Effect: Allows the host to passively sense ambient mana and the spiritual density of living vessels (Aura Reading).]
Seiyuu opened his eyes.
The library looked exactly the same. The dust motes still danced in the pale light filtering through the leaded glass. But there was a new layer of information overlaid upon his vision. It was a faint, nearly imperceptible shimmer, a distortion in the air that spoke of weight and density.
He stood up, brushing the dust from his breeches. It was time to test the parameters of this new tool.
He left the library and descended the winding stone stairs, his soft leather boots making no sound. He headed for the courtyard, where the afternoon drills were concluding.
The yard smelled of sweat, rusted iron, and wet earth. Sergeant Garrick was leaning heavily against the armory wall, a clay cup of watered ale in his good hand. Lord Aldous stood nearby, wrapped in a heavy fur cloak, speaking in low, exhausted tones to the master of the guard.
And standing faithfully by the gatehouse, as still as a statue, was Kaelen.
Seiyuu stopped in the shadows of the archway. He focused his mind, engaging the new skill. He looked first at Sergeant Garrick.
The air around the scarred veteran distorted. A dull, heavy, rust-colored aura flickered into Seiyuu's perception, accompanied by a sudden influx of data directly into his mind.
[Target: Garrick Stone] [Status: Lingering Wounds] Strength: 19 Agility: 11 Vitality: 16 Mana: 5/5 [Primary Skills]: Heavy Blade Lvl 5, Shield Wall Lvl 4, Pain Tolerance Lvl 5.
Seiyuu analyzed the numbers. Garrick was a wall of bruised meat. His strength and vitality were formidable for a commoner, built from decades of swinging steel and surviving blunt trauma. His agility was not great, hampered by age and old injuries. His mana was practically non-existent. He was exactly what he appeared to be: a stubborn, hardened warrior who had been dealt an unlucky hand.
Seiyuu shifted his gaze to his father.
The aura around Lord Aldous was entirely different. It was a pale, flickering blue, but it was frayed at the edges, like a banner chewed by the wind.
[Target: Aldous Walderose] [Status: Stressed] Strength: 13 Agility: 15 Vitality: 16 Mana: 18/18 [Unawakened/Stagnant] [Primary Skills]: Swordsmanship Lvl 4, Noble Etiquette Lvl 5, Stewardship Lvl 2.
Aldous was biologically superior to Garrick in his arcane potential—the noble bloodline granted him a decent, though stagnant, mana pool. Equal to Seiyuu's current mana level. But his strength was below Garrick, agility and vitality just above average. He had some skill but the stress, starvation, and the crushing weight of his failing house were physically eating him alive. His stewardship skill was a pathetic Level 2, a harsh confirmation of his inability to manage a crisis. He was a man hollowed out by duty.
Finally, Seiyuu turned his gaze toward the gatehouse. He focused on the silent girl in the boiled leather armor.
When the system locked onto Kaelen, the feedback was not a gentle distortion. It was a sharp, cold shock to Seiyuu's senses, like grabbing the edge of a freshly honed blade.
Her aura was not a color; it was an absence of light. It was a tight, coiled shadow that clung tightly to her skin, bleeding no excess energy, wasting no motion.
[Target: Kaelen] [Status: Hyper-Vigilant] Strength: 19 Agility: 24 Vitality: 15 Mana: 4/4 [Primary Skills]: Vanguard Arts Lvl 5, Silent Step Lvl 4, Lethal Strike Lvl 4, Threat Assessment Lvl 4.
Seiyuu let out a slow, controlled breath, instantly dismissing the skill. The auras vanished, returning the world to its mundane, dreary reality.
Agility 24. She was far faster than father, and more lethal than the veteran Sergeant. Her skills were entirely optimized for assasination. If Castellan's men ever breached the walls, Kaelen would slip into the shadows and bleed them out one by one.
As Seiyuu stood in the archway, processing the vast gulf in power between himself and the adults, Kaelen's head slowly turned.
From fifty feet away, across a noisy courtyard, her pale, watery grey eyes locked onto the dark archway. Without seeing him move, she had felt the weight of his observation. The instinct of a predator realizing it was being watched.
Seiyuu didn't flinch. He stepped out of the shadows and into the pale afternoon light, walking calmly toward his father.
He was six years old. He was weak. His stats were a fraction of the adults that surrounded him. But as he gripped the hilt of the wooden waster hanging at his belt, Seiyuu felt no despair, he knew the benchmarks that he had to surpass.